


Pale Green

by Guardian



Category: The Avengers (2012), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Amnesia, Angst and Humor, Borderline crackfic, Brotherly Love, Gen, Gratuitous Brothercuddling, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-11-21
Updated: 2013-01-28
Packaged: 2017-11-19 05:09:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 20,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/569461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Guardian/pseuds/Guardian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Loki wakes up from the aftermath of battle, he remembers nothing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I've got no idea where this will go. But if anyone is interested, we can certainly find out. As usual my writing style, this should be strangely humorous and heartbreaking at the same time.

It took all of the Avengers a while for their shell-shocked senses to process the fact that the battle had actually ended. They gathered themselves together, twitchy nerves expecting a new attack at any moment, but nothing came.

One goal became clear to each of them: they needed to find everyone else. They did so slowly, grouping up until only the Hulk remained absent. Of course, they knew exactly where he was – it was impossible to misplace a team member that big, with that much power, especially given that he was bellowing every few minutes from Stark tower, like he was claiming his territory.

"Tranquilizer?" Natasha questioned, all business.

Clint nodded, his bow at the ready, and they moved in at a slow pace to collect the last part of the ragtag team.

As soon as they found the Hulk, the question of 'Where did Loki go?' was answered. He hadn't escaped, as many of them had suspected. He was lying on the floor, in the middle of a crater, unconscious and utterly wrecked.

"T'was the Beast that killed the Beauty," Tony smirked, barely held upright in his heavy armor with Steve's arm around his back. "Or something like that. Good job, buddy," he said to their green teammate, who seemed as mellow as possible just for the fact that he wasn't trying to kill them.

"Hulk smash," the enormous brute grunted. He snarled in Loki's direction, as if the unconscious god might dare move again.

"Easy, big guy," Tony tried to soothe. Hulk snorted softly and ambled away.

"I am sorry for all of this, my friends," Thor said, grave as ever.

"Would've been nice to meet you under different circumstances," Steve replied. "Sorry that your brother is kind of..."

"Insane," Tony finished.

"Kind of?" Natasha repeated, rolling her eyes.

Thor tightened his mouth into a severe line. "I will bring him home to Asgard to answer for his crimes, if you will allow me," he said.

"I think Fury will want him," Clint said.

"The man of Fury will not have him – he is of Asgard, and he is my brother," Thor answered, unconcerned. Apparently his courtesy of asking for permission was only that - a courtesy. It didn't actually matter to Thor whether he had their permission or not. He went closer to Loki, dropping to one knee so he could rouse him.

"Loki," Thor said. He repeated his name, gently cupping his brother's face and tilting his chin upwards. Thor was prepared to go further to wake him, but this was sufficient – Loki's eyes came open, dazed and unfocused, and then he tried to sit up, his lungs sucking in air and then choking on it, as if he had only just remembered how to breathe.

"Easy," Thor caught Loki in his arms, holding him tightly. He never wanted to release him again. He wanted Loki to understand how much he had been missed after all this time. How much Thor loved him still, even after all of the damage done. How much Thor still wanted him to come home. That Thor would never give up on him, never abandon him.

Loki struggled against him weakly – far too weakly – but Thor refused to lessen his grip or give Loki the slightest chance to slip away.

"Be still. The fighting is done," Thor said. "It would not be wise for you to continue," he advised, looking up from Loki's shoulder to the team around them. He did not want Loki to be shot with Clint's arrows, or the Widow's strange gauntlet, or the Man of Iron's suit of armor, or have the Captain fling his shield against his head, or worse still, to anger the mighty green beast.

"It's hot," Loki fussed, burrowing his head against him, and Thor was reminded of a time so long ago when they were both still children. Like back then, he was sweating and warm to the touch, and sniffled continuously as if his nose were running. This could explain everything, Thor thought desperately to himself. Perhaps Loki was ill all along. His little brother had always been so miserable when he was sick, and as a child he always seemed to be sickly. The fevers affected him the worst, making him delirious and coming on so strongly that everyone in the kingdom whispered to each other, 'This time, pity him, the little prince will not pull through.' Frigga always assured Thor that Loki was strong and he would be fine. But her eyes were always red with tears and he always thought, _Loki is too small._

"Be still," Thor said again, trying to keep Loki's restless hands from moving. He seemed to want to shed his clothes – the heavy layers of leather and armor – but Thor knew it would help little, that soon after he would be freezing with the cold. Instead, he kept Loki pressed against him, kept him from fidgeting as much as possible.

Loki seemed strangely calm, but still his hands twitched and trembled, almost involuntarily.

"Where am I?" Loki asked, sounding only curious. The strange tone of voice more than anything made Thor's blood run cold.

"We are on Midgard," Thor said, wondering how much of Loki's mind had been shattered by his experience. "Do you remember? You fell from the Bifrost and found your way here."

"What is Midgard?" Loki mumbled, the rest of Thor's words slipping through his mind, too much to fathom all at once.

Thor straightened up and lifted Loki again, so that he could study his brother's bruised face again. "Loki?" he questioned, concerned. "Do you remember me?"

Loki's bright green eyes seemed dulled, and his head kept drooping, as if he might slip into unconsciousness again. Thor had to support him to keep him from falling over, and already he was beginning to grow panicked. "Loki," Thor spoke urgently, ready to shake him if need be, but Loki's eyes finally focused on him, blinking slowly.

"You're so handsome," Loki said, his words deathly quiet, like a sigh. He started to lose focus again.

"Loki," Thor persisted, rousing him again. He felt guilty - as if Loki merely wanted to sleep and Thor was keeping him from it. But he felt terrified. Something was wrong. "Loki, what is my name? Tell me my name."

Loki stared at him, and for a moment Thor thought he saw anger in Loki's eyes. It filled him with slivers of hope. Let Loki hate him, let him call him stupid, just let him be mistaken.

Then suddenly Loki grinned, letting out a half-laugh that seemed more pained than amused. "I'm sorry," he said, and Thor felt a pang of relief. 

"I'm sorry," he repeated, sounding confused. The pang in Thor's chest remained, but the relief was gone. Loki looked utterly lost and embarrassed with himself. He sniffled again, and covered his nose with a hand that would not stop shaking. Suddenly there was the color red dripping over his fingers and falling in rapid, fat drops onto the cracked floor. 

Thor caught his brother just before he collapsed.

 

\- - -

 

Stark's medical bay wasn't a professional setup – or so Tony claimed – but the place had all the bells and whistles of a physician's wet dream. After all, Tony figured he injured himself too many times in his lab to keep thinking that a box of bandaids and peroxide would be enough for everything. Consequently, he had everything he needed just short of being able to perform open heart surgery. But given his own medical condition, Tony was sure he could even handle that if he had to.

Thor had carried Loki there in his arms and made himself hoarse for shouting with Tony to help his brother, but the fact remained the same – Tony wasn't actually much of a doctor, and they couldn't exactly ask for help from anyone else, so until Bruce woke up, they'd have to wait. All of this meant that many hours had gone by. Many hours in which Thor had sat with Loki to keep him awake, as Natasha had suggested. He'd had to remind Loki of his own name, and that they were brothers, and that Thor loved him dearly. 

The confusion had been apparent on Loki's face. He asked Thor as much as he could. What had happened to him? Where was he? What was Midgard? Where was home? Why was he chained to the bed? Could he have something to eat? Who were these people? What was that machine in the corner for?

Sometimes the questions made no sense at all, just a mumble of strange words, and Loki grew frustrated the more that Thor frowned and tried to tell him he did not understand. It was as if the silver tongue was broken, tripping over even simple words. Thor could do nothing but squeeze Loki's fingers in a way he hoped would comfort his brother, and wipe away the occasional tear for him, since his hands were bound. He'd never seen his brother so confused, and it gave Thor great pain.

When Bruce arrived, his clothes were rumpled and his hair still messy from sleep. Obviously he had received some urgent message as soon as he awoke, for he seemed to have rushed to the medical floor with utmost haste.

Jarvis alerted Tony of Bruce's impending arrival, and the inventor met the doctor at the doorway.

"What is it?" Bruce asked, still trying to catch his breath. He was full of worry – he had seen Natasha in passing, and now Tony, but he wondered if the other members of the team were mortally injured.

"Thor's brother," Tony answered, relieving some of Bruce's tension. "He took some kind of mean hit to the head."

"How bad?" Bruce asked gently as he was finally allowed into the room. He took in Loki's confusion and Thor's mask of grave concern. Maybe it was impeccable bedside manner, but Bruce didn't question at all why they were suddenly helping the man they had been fighting against just a day before. He simply put on a pair of latex gloves and focused on his job – helping.

"Bad," Tony said. "Your green friend went all out on him. It looked like he'd been using Loki to renovate the building. I don't think tootsie was wearing his helmet at the time, either. When he came to he was out of it, and he had this nosebleed, I swear he lost a pint of blood."

"He lost consciousness?" Bruce asked.

"Yeah, I don't know for how long before we found him," Tony scratched at his neck. "Maybe a couple minutes. He came to for a little while, started bleeding, and passed out again. I had Thor keep him awake down here, though, because, concussions and all that."

"A concussion would be a miracle," Bruce muttered, pulling a stool to the bedside of his unexpected patient and settling beside him. "Loki?" he questioned, glancing over the restraints, and trying to guess how pissed off or uncooperative Loki would be to receive his care.

"That's what they tell me," he answered mildly, staring at his hands.

Bruce shot Tony a surprised look.

"Oh, yeah, he seems to have lost his memory, too," Tony added unhelpfully.

Bruce fought the urge to roll his eyes at Tony for leaving out such a large detail. He turned back to Loki instead, who seemed every bit the scared patient who wasn't sure why they were there. "Do you know what year it is?" he asked, watching Loki's eyes. It almost seemed to him as if one pupil were blown wider than the other. A bad sign.

The god hesitated, and Tony opened his mouth again. "What if they measure time differently?"

They glanced at Thor, but he didn't seem to have a clue as to how Asgard time might compare to Midgard time, or if there even was a difference. Bruce pursed his lips in thought and went back to Loki again. "You don't have to get this answer right, Loki," he told him. "I'm sure you're confused, but I'm just here to help. Okay? So don't be afraid to say the wrong thing. Your answer is important because it could help us figure out how bad your injuries are. Okay? So just answer me truthfully, what year do you think it is? What comes to mind?"

"Ah," Loki licked his lips and looked at Thor, as if trying to read an answer from his face. "We're on Midgard? On Midgard they... they..." he seemed to search the air itself for the right word, but couldn't find it. "They... track... the... numbers by the sun. By her journey."

"Can you think of a number?" Bruce pressed.

"Um...1583."

"1583?" Tony repeated, looking to Thor, his eyes comically wide.

Thor ignored him, shifting with excitement at Loki's answer. "We did visit Midgard about that time," Thor explained. "Do you remember, brother? We traveled through on our journey to Utgard. The peasants of this realm gave us shelter but had no food to spare. So hungry were we, I killed both of my fine goats for us to eat." He told all of this as one would tell a grand tale, chuckling at the memory despite his misty eyes, and Loki chuckled with him. "Do you remember my fine goats, brother?"

"I do," Loki declared, almost smiling, and Thor felt his heart twist with joy. "Such large, strong beasts. It is a shame they're dead now."

"Dead," Thor repeated, his grin slipping. "The goats are not dead now, Loki. They are alive and well in the stables."

Loki gave Thor a confused and scrutinizing stare. "You said you had killed them both."

"I did," Thor agreed. "For we had nothing else to eat."

"You are a liar," Loki accused, growing slightly hysterical.

"I tell no lie, Loki," Thor asserted. "I struck them dead, and renewed their bones with magic. They are quite fat and content in the stables at this very moment, I assure you."

"I... I..." Loki faltered, his hands clutching nervously at nothing. "You are right," he breathed, closing his eyes and nodding. "I remember now. You... used magic. I'm sorry. How did I forget such a strange sight?"

Thor nodded, still concerned, but more at ease once again.

"Hey, Loki," Tony chimed in, grinning. "Do you remember the time when you and I climbed up Mt. Rushmore and had a picnic? The view was amazing, wasn't it?"

Loki stared at him, uncertain, but before Thor could interject, he spoke. "It was. You could see for miles. The sun cast long shadows on the land when she set. I remember... it was cold."

Thor glared at Tony, bewildered and angry all at once, demanding answers.

"He doesn't remember," Tony stated flatly. "Sorry to confuse you, bud," he added, patting Loki's leg. "Oh, but he wasn't lying, though. He was remembering different things, for sure. Maybe he's seen a view like that, or been to the top of a mountain. Maybe he knows what a goat looks like, too. But he doesn't actually remember the events happening. Which, by the way, Loki, I'm sorry to say we've never had a bromantic picnic anywhere. Just so we're clear."

"You tricked him," Thor growled, placing himself between Tony and Loki in a protective gesture.

"You did too," Tony pointed out. "We each painted a scene, and Loki went along with it, and maybe thought that he remembered it. The only difference is that yours was probably real, and mine was utter bullshit. I only did it to prove a point."

"There was a point to your deception?" Thor all but sneered.

"That Loki is particularly impressionable to false memories right now," Bruce said. "Thank you, actually, Tony. We'll have to keep that in mind. I want to do a few tests," he continued, "and I'd prefer if both of you to step outside until I'm done. Is that alright?" he asked Loki for permission, not Thor or Tony.

Loki glanced up at Bruce, and then stared at his hands again. After witnessing Loki take charge of an army and make speeches at every opportunity, it was strange for Bruce and Tony to see him so introverted. "The..." Loki wiggled his fingers, at a loss for the word. "Do they hurt?"

"Not at all," Bruce assured him, and Loki nodded his consent.

"Come on, big guy," Tony said, patting Thor's wide shoulder and guiding him out of the room to give Bruce some privacy.

Despite Thor's wish to remain close to Loki's side, Tony managed to convince Thor to head upstairs with him to the common area.

They found the other members of the team lingering around the kitchen/dining room area, shoving their faces with food. Steve was working through a plate loaded with bacon, eggs, hashbrowns, and English muffins, and Clint was partaking in the same, in a much smaller portion, as well as a small bowl of granola. Natasha had already finished whatever had been on her plate and was busy sipping at her coffee.

"God, that smells good!" Tony praised as he came into the room.

"There's enough for you and Thor," Steve said quickly, his mouth full. He looked ashamed and covered his bad manners with his hand.

"There's enough for a small army," Tony retorted, but immediately helped himself to the remainder of the food.

"Good thing we  _are_  a small army," Natasha noted.

Tony grinned at her, then frowned at Thor and began loading up a second plate for the thunderer, who seemed to be at a loss.

"Sit. Eat," Tony said to Thor, setting the plate down at an empty place on the table. "It'll probably be a little while before Bruce is done with Loki. I'm sure he'll want to be thorough. Do you like coffee?"

"I... yes," Thor said, torn between his sense of duty and sense of courtesy. "Thank you, Man of Iron." He haltingly drew out the chair from his place at the table and sat down, aware that everyone was staring at him and trying not to stare at the same time. "Would I be allowed to bring some victuals to Loki as well?"

"Of course," Steve answered softly, nodding. "How is he?"

"He is confused and distressed," Thor said. "He remembers nothing of me. He remembers nothing whatsoever."

Clint held a stern focus on his bowl of granola, and Steve picked at his plate, too polite to say anything. Tony might have spoken first, but he busied himself with making Thor a cup of coffee, so it was Natasha who flatly laid out what they were all thinking.

"Are you sure he doesn't remember anything?" Natasha asked. "He could be lying," she clarified when Thor looked confused. "Playing the amnesia card is a classic defense. It's a tactic that I would consider using myself if I were ever captured by the enemy. They might not torture you for information if you can convince them you know nothing. Stupid people will even let you go."

"Or moral people," Steve said.

"Stupid people," Natasha repeated, unperturbed.

"No," Thor frowned, defensive. "I have never seen him in this state before. But he is known to be a master liesmith," he added, softening with doubt.

"Well, I can usually tell when people are lying," Natasha said. "Let me talk to him for ten minutes, and I'll be able to figure it out."

"When you say you'll talk to him, this had better be what you mean, and nothing more," Thor said, an underlying threat in his voice that unsettled everyone, even Natasha. "You will not lay a hand on him."

Natasha faltered for only a fraction of a second, but it was telling. "I won't need to. I could ask him about the weather and manage to learn whatever I need to know just from how he answers. I'm that good."

"Then I thank you, Natasha, for your expertise," Thor said, and she gave him a curt nod and continued to drink her coffee.

The remaining group was left in a tense silence. Thor noticed how they avoided to look at him now, how their shoulders were stiff with unease, and he ached inside to know that his brother had earned such deep distrust here. Moreover, now he had earned their distrust as well, for it had to be clear to them where his loyalties were. He regretted having threatened, and wondered if his new friends no longer considered him an ally after his actions today. But he couldn't think of such things. These people were brave, and had been generous to him thus far, and he would avoid fighting them if he could.

"I am sorry," Thor said at last, because he could not bear the silence.

"Don't be sorry," Natasha answered. "He's your brother. You care about him. I just hope you're right. I hope he isn't lying to you. If this is just an act and he's still planning something, you know we'll have to stop him again."

"If he is, I will put a stop to it myself," Thor promised, grim.

The conversation stopped again , although the tension was less. For the most part, it seemed nobody knew what to say. Thor ate slowly, but still finished his first plate of food when Bruce paged over the intercom system.

"Tony?" Bruce asked.

"At your service, hot stuff," Tony barked in the general direction of the ceiling, to the utter confusion of Thor and Steve.

"Can you help me out? I don't know how to work your equipment."

"That depends on what you're trying to use," Tony answered.

"Your MRI machine."

"I don't have an MRI machine."

"But... Then what the hell is this thing?"

"I'll tell you when I figure out what it  _does_. Just don't put Loki inside it."

"Do you have something that can do a CT scan, then?"

"Bruce, do I look like a frigging neurosurgeon?" Tony gave Bruce his 'bitch plz' attitude, but he was talking to Bruce, so he quickly sighed and tried to be reasonable for a change. "I've got an x-ray machine and a photo copier – I'm sure we can make it work."

"Tony," Bruce uttered in protest, but Tony jabbed a button on the wall as he left the room, and the connection was cut off.

Natasha stood up and headed in the same direction, but squeezed Thor's shoulder when the flaxen-haired warrior looked like he wanted to get to his feet and follow her.

"Stay here for a minute, okay?" Natasha said. "I'll talk to Loki and do my thing. And make sure that idiot Stark doesn't get us all killed."

"I should be by his side," Thor said, feeling hooks of guilt ripping his insides apart.

"You will be," Natasha assured him. "But he needs a doctor first, and Bruce needs a little space to work, right? Don't worry. Bruce is a great guy, and he knows what he's doing. He's in good hands."

 

\- - -

 

Half an hour later, Bruce, Tony, and Natasha all returned to the common area.

"So?" Steve prompted, sitting forward.

"He's not lying," Natasha reported, straight-forward as ever.

Naturally, Clint and Steve hesitated to believe this. "Are you sure?"

"I've seen Loki lie before, so I know his tells," Natasha stated, taking her seat next to Clint again. "And I know that he's clever, but his emotions are a weakness – he can be too easily manipulated into revealing his hand. If I didn't know any better, I'd say the guy in there isn't even Loki."

"If he really lost his memory, then... do you think he'll get it back?" Steve asked, which was the new primary concern on everyone's list.

"That's hard to tell," Bruce said, running a hand through his hair. "I'm not specifically trained for this type of injury."

"I am told you are the best," Thor said, rising to his feet. "Please, Banner. My friend. Help me to understand."

"Okay," Bruce took a breath and steeled himself to just talk. "There are obvious signs of severe traumatic brain injury. Essentially, it was bad enough that he should be _dead_ , by all means. Um, but since he's a godly being, his body seems to be great at repairing even severe damage. But what extent that healing capability will go for him, I'm not sure. By that I mean, I don't know if it was enough just to save his life and higher brain functions, or if he'll continue to heal and be completely fine. And even if he does heal completely, I don't know how long the recovery time would be.

"So this is what you should know," Bruce continued, mostly to Thor. "I, uh, I spoke to him and just did some very simple tests. Coordination, reflexes, word repetition. Like I said, he has sure symptoms of a moderate to severe brain trauma. I was told he lost consciousness for lengths of a few minutes at a time. He has obvious confusion, weakness in his hands, and uh, nausea. He told me he has a headache and physical pain – not surprising in this case. I also noticed he has some form of aphasia. And of course, amnesia. I'm not sure how long any of these symptoms will last."

"You might want to explain aphasia to some of the lesser mortals," Tony reminded Bruce.

"Ah, right, sorry," Bruce frowned. "Well, aphasia is the inability to use or understand speech. There are different forms of it, such as slurred speech or being unable to recognize the meaning of words. Luckily in this case, he seems to both be able to understand what's said to him and form words clearly. This was obvious enough just by getting him to repeat different words and sentences. I'm not sure about how he'd be with reading and writing yet, of course. But he does seem to have what's called anomic aphasia. What that means is, he can't always connect the name of an object with the object itself. It can happen with something even as simple as an apple. In other words, he knows what it  _is_  and what it  _does_  but he can't remember what it's called. It can actually be helped quite a lot with just some therapy but in the meantime it can be incredibly frustrating."

Thor took a moment to process all of this, his normally cheerful expression bleak. "If it is alright, I would like to bring Loki a meal, and sit with him. I do not want him to be alone."

"Of course," Bruce nodded.

Thor loaded a small plate with various selections of food, and returned to the medical bay alone. He paused when he saw Loki once more. His brother seemed so confused and slight, almost lost under a layer of clean white linens that had been tucked around him with care. Despite this apparently thoughtful treatment, Loki's face was still a mask of confusion, anxiety, and resignation. The last made Thor very concerned, for he never found it in his brother's nature to simply give in to anything. But in this, Thor supposed, Loki had nothing to grasp onto at all to help him fight. It made him more determined to make sure Loki knew he could rely on Thor, always.

"I've brought you some good food," Thor stated. It hurt him to see how pale and gaunt with hunger Loki had become – had he eaten anything at all since he fell?

He came beside Loki, to the place where Bruce had been sitting. Loki tried to sit up in the bed, only to be halted by the restraints around his wrists.

"I will release you," Thor said quietly, setting the plate down on some sort of table. "But you must promise to lie still and be at ease. I do not think our friends would like to see you out of bed."

"You are my... brother, and they are our friends," Loki said, repeating what he had been told by Thor so far.

"Aye," Thor leaned over Loki, unfastening the hand closest to him, and then the farthest. "But you and they did not get along as well as anyone would like."

Loki frowned, a crease appearing on his forehead that Thor tried to soothe over with a brush of his thumb.

"Did I hate them?"

"You did not know them," Thor answered, reaching down to lift Loki by the waist, to help him sit upright in the bed. He still wore most of his armor, though the heavier leather and metal had been taken off, as well as his boots. Loki pulled his legs close, crossing them at the ankles while Thor stuffed the pillow behind Loki's back to help him keep his posture. Thor sat down on the now-vacant lower half of Loki's bed and brought the plate to rest between them, where Loki could sample it.

"In truth, I myself have only known them for but a few days," Thor continued. "But they are great warriors and heroes, all of them."

"And we didn't get along," Loki said, fishing for clues.

"I do not think you arrived here at a pleasant time in your life," Thor said, choosing his words as carefully as possible. "What was in your mind, I could not guess. I know that you were angry with me, perhaps with the entire world. I do not know what I did to wrong you, but please know that I am sorry, and that I only wish for there to be peace in your heart again."

"I... I don't remember," Loki said. "But thank you. I'm sorry I was angry with you. I don't remember why."

"Perhaps you had every reason to be so mad. I..." Thor paused, grinning bitterly at how foolish he was. "Between the two of us, I must admit, you are far more clever. Perhaps I made some slight against you without realizing. If you do remember, Loki, please let us speak of it," he requested. "Please allow me the chance to apologize for whatever it was."

"If I remember it, yes," Loki agreed, and began picking at the food. He felt uneasy, for the stranger in front of him seemed so kind, and he didn't want to remember whatever it was that might make him hate him again. But perhaps it was something very important, something he could not live in ignorance of. And there was such a large, black void in his mind that begged to be filled.

 

\- - -

 

Thor stayed with Loki through the night, getting only a few hours of sleep for himself. He awoke before Loki did, and only after Bruce stopped in to check on Loki did he finally leave long enough to prepare something to eat. For once, however, Thor had no appetite – he wanted to be sure that Loki was fed.

He set the new plate down on the same table as before, and went to Loki's side, holding his brother's bony wrist between his palms. Loki had always been thin, almost delicate, but now he seemed fragile where he had always been strong. Thor could feel the bones under Loki's skin. He worried that they were too light, even – hollow like a bird. For the first time he truly noticed how thin and long Loki's fingers were, as opposed to his own huge, battle-roughened paws. He noticed how pale Loki's skin was, like parchment, and how cold, as if death were trying to settle in.

At the last idea, Thor squeezed Loki's hand tightly in his and rubbed over the skin, trying to return warmth and life.

The motion woke Loki, whose eyes flickered open slowly, dull green and heavy-lidded. For a long time Loki stared at Thor from under his eyelashes, not moving, just breathing so slowly and deeply, gradually coming to his senses. Finally he blinked a few times and shifted, looking about the room and back at Thor.

"Are you well today?" Thor questioned, still clasping Loki's hand.

"My head hurts," Loki answered, settling against the bed as if all his energy were drained.

"I am told that is to be expected," Thor said, with a small smile that did not match the worry in his eyes.

Loki made a quiet, breathy noise and blinked so slowly for a long time before he looked at Thor again. "Who are you?"

x


	2. Chapter 2

Minutes before Thor returned to the tower, the entire city had gone dark in the middle of the day, shadowed by heavy black clouds. The lightning and thunder came first, rumbling for miles, and then the rain came down in sheets. Thor was soaked when he stepped inside from the balcony, his blonde hair in dark strands around his face, his eyes grey as the sky.

No one needed to guess that his trip back to Asgard had not gone well.

"How is my brother?" Thor asked, his voice low and terse.

"He's the same as when you left, but other than that, he's doing fine," Steve answered, rising to his feet. Seeing someone like Thor this upset was unsettling, to say the least. They still knew so little about each other, and it put the entire group on edge. No one else spoke, so Steve continued. "Bruce is sitting with him. Thor, are you okay?"

"When I was a boy, I was struck accidentally with a sword," Thor stated, seemingly out of nowhere. "It cleaved me in half at the shoulder. Even now I would shudder to sustain such a wound. The healers in Asgard were able to mend me. But they know nothing of how to treat a wounded mind."

Tony gave a low whistle.

"I'm sorry," Steve murmured, and he meant it. "Maybe bringing him home would help, though? It might help him remember."

"I cannot bring him home," Thor said, his words almost as heavy as his heart. He looked absolutely wretched, close to tears, but he stood resolutely before his fellow warriors. "Too many demand his head, and not just for what he has done, but simply for what he is. My own father does not believe that Loki truly remembers nothing. He has made his heart cold to him and intends to carry out a punishment when Loki returns. But how could one justly punish him now when he remembers nothing of what he has done? How could they beg my father to put him for death simply for the fact that his blood is not Aesir?"

"It doesn't seem right," Clint agreed, uncomfortable to hear about this.

There was an odd silence, in which Thor fought against despair to look his new companions in the eyes.

"My friends, I cannot thank you enough for your great hospitality," Thor said. "I know that you owe nothing to us, but please... I beg of you to allow him shelter here. I ask only because I fear there is no other place in the nine realms that could help him as you have already. In return, I would do whatever you asked of me to earn my keep, though I would undoubtedly be forever indebted to you."

"Thor," Tony rubbed his eyes with the heel of his palm. "I'm touched, seriously. But think about this for a second. Think of what this is to us. Loki showed up out of nowhere, started killing people, and tried to take over the world. He tried to kill _us_ , and he damn well nearly succeeded."

"I do realize this," Thor said. "And I ask you to consider where he and I stand in this as well. When he arrived here, I admit his actions and intentions were most horrific. His darkness frightened me, for that is not who he is, and my heart breaks that you should look at him and see a monster. I have known him as _brother_ for millennia. For all of time, he has been my companion, my clever friend, and I love him dearly. When he fell into the void, I am sure he meant to kill himself. I thought him dead for so long. I regretted... never being able to speak to him, or find the right words. But he was beyond reason. And when he arrived on Midgard, he was clearly unwell. I do not know what happened in the void to break him, but if he has lost all memory of it, then I count that as a blessing. Please, my friends. You have seen him yourselves now."

The team stood still, some considering, some already decided.

"What if the answer is 'no'?" Tony asked.

Thor shut his eyes, holding back pain, and opened them again with some hopelessness. "I will not petition you again. I would take Loki to one of the other realms and care for him there, as well as I could."

Natasha couldn't stand it. "Let's be honest. Some of us have done as much damage as him, and taken even more lives. Some of us are here for a second chance."

"Here because we want to do the right thing," Clint cut in. "Loki just doesn't remember what he wants."

"Well. I have a ton of space in this tower," Tony said. "So if you'll stay, Thor, you and Loki can each have your own room. You'll have to keep your brother on a short leash, though."

"Tony, you can't be serious," Natasha shook her head. "Fury will never allow it."

"Fury can go suck on an egg," Tony replied. "It's my tower, and I can abet fugitive Nordic gods if I want to. He wants Thor on the team, doesn't he? And the only way I see that happening is this way, 'cause otherwise Thor is gone."

"Is it really worth it?" Clint grumbled.

"I have to agree with Tony on this one. Loki isn't a threat anymore," Steve pointed out. "If and when that changes, then we will re-evaluate the situation. But until then I can't in good conscience see him punished for crimes he can't remember committing."

"Exactly. And you're all forgetting, Loki threw me out a window," Tony said. "Now I get to watch him be all cute and confused and pathetic? Of _course_ it's worth it."

\- - -

When Thor entered the medical bay, he found Loki already asleep despite the early hour. The dark-haired god lay curled on his side, one wrist still locked to the frame of the bed, the other arm wrapped around himself as tightly as the blankets.

Bruce lifted his head at Thor's approach. He was seated at one of the tables in the wide room, having apparently brought some of his notes over from the lab so that he could work and keep an eye on Loki at the same time.

"I gave him something for the pain," Bruce explained. "He probably won't wake up for several hours. I'm sorry, if I knew you were coming back so soon-"

"Do not apologize for helping him," Thor said. "You are a true friend to me, Bruce Banner. Thank you."

Bruce fiddled with his pen. "You're welcome. Uh, so are you taking him back to Asgard in the morning?"

"Nay," Thor said simply. "We will remain here. Stark has been gracious enough to offer my brother and I rooms in the tower. I will continue to help you defend your world, if you will have me."

"Of course," Bruce smiled, actually pleased to have Thor staying around. "Tony actually offered everyone a place to stay here."

"I hope you will accept," Thor said quickly. "I'm afraid I would not know how to tend to Loki without your guidance."

"Even though I'm kind of to blame for hurting him this badly to begin with?" Bruce asked, trying to disguise bitterness and guilt as dry humor.

"If anyone is responsible for this, it is your other half, not you," Thor asserted. "I hold no ill will towards him for this. My brother meant to cause harm, and he needed to be stopped. In a way, I'm even..." he stared at Loki's small, curled body in the bed. "Is it wrong of me to be glad for it?"

"Glad for what, exactly?" Bruce studied Thor's face, reading all of the dark shame that was plain there. "That he doesn't remember anything?"

Thor nodded quietly. "I... I should not feel this way. The forgetting is a terrible thing. I can see the distress that it causes him. And yet, this distress seems far more bearable than the pain I saw in his eyes last we spoke. Is it wrong, then, to be glad that whatever caused him such pain is wiped from his memory?"

"He could remember," Bruce pointed out. "Head injuries are really unpredictable. He may never remember, or he may only recover some memories, or he might wake up tomorrow and remember everything."

"Perhaps," Thor agreed. "But I cannot help but... _hope_ that this could be a second chance. That I could fill his days with happiness. Then perhaps if his dark memories returned, he would remember how much he is loved... that even in this hour I have stood by him. He would not have to take such a destructive path again."

"He's very lucky to have you by his side," Bruce said. "He needs someone, you know. Someone to lean on, someone who has his best interest in mind and knows him well. This isn't something he can handle alone."

"He will not be alone," Thor promised.

\- - -

Even though Tony had the rooms ready that night, Thor did not sleep in his new bed. Once more he folded himself into a chair near Loki's side and stayed with him through the night. Despite the uncomfortable seat, Thor slept heavily, exhausted by the last few days of turmoil. The last few months, actually. Now that he had found Loki, it was as if a terrible nightmare had finally ended.

When Thor awoke, he found green eyes watching him, quickly joined by an amused smile tugging on their owner's lips. He smiled back and stretched himself out, rubbing at the crick in his neck.

"Did you know you snore?" Loki questioned.

Thor blushed. "Yes, I'm aware," he chuckled. "You've actually told me before. Did I wake you?"

"Yes. But I was done sleeping," Loki said. "It was rather entertaining."

"To lie there and listen to me snore?"

"Well, I was watching you drool as well," Loki replied, laughing when Thor self-consciously rubbed at his stubbly chin – and found it to be damp.

Thor rose to his feet, his borrowed t-shirt hitching up as he stretched again. "Did you rest well?"

"Yes, I think so," Loki said, rolling onto his back again, one hand free while the other was still locked to the frame of the bed. "Though I think that this bed must be as uncomfortable as your... as your... where you slept," he tried gesturing.

Thor frowned for only a second, before he remembered. "It is a chair," he stated helpfully.

"Yes. Chair," Loki repeated, and then sighed very softly.

"Do you remember my name today?" Thor asked, attempting to be light about it, almost playful, but there was a heaviness in his heart for worrying.

"Thorrr," Loki drawled pointedly, as if Thor were the one with the brain injury. Despite the sass, he was rewarded with a brilliant grin. "And I am Loki. And I am hungry," he added, with a restless little sigh.

"I will bring you something," Thor said. " And today you should be released as well. Stark has offered us both rooms here."

"Here?" Loki echoed doubtfully, glancing about the room with doubt etched on his brow. 

“Our rooms are on a different floor," Thor explained. "I have not seen them yet, but the rest of his home is quite grand. This is but a part of it."

Loki's brows lifted in surprise, and he glanced at the wide room again in awe of how large the rest of the building would be if this was only a part of it. If only he knew how large the palace had been... but Thor did not think it wise to try bringing up such things yet.

"I'll return shortly," Thor promised, suddenly leaning over Loki's bed. His presence was huge and warm, and for an instant Loki's senses were invaded with Thor's rich, earthy scent. He pressed a kiss to Loki's forehead, his beard leaving behind a tickle on Loki's skin that lingered even after he rubbed it away.

\- - -

True to his word, Thor soon returned with breakfast food. There was cereal, which Loki picked at until half was gone, and the other half was too soggy to eat; and buttered toast, which Loki had eaten straight away, between sips of cold milk.

By the time Loki was finished eating, Bruce arrived. Loki earned another pleased smile for the fact that he could remember Bruce's name.

"How are you feeling?" Bruce questioned.

Loki grimaced. "Sore."

"Headache?"

Loki nodded, and Bruce gave him a dosage of Tylenol.

"So I want to do a few tests like yesterday," Bruce said. "Is that alright?"

Loki agreed, and Bruce unfastened his other hand, allowing Loki to sit up at the edge of the bed. Bruce looked into his eyes with a light, and tapped his knees with a rubber hammer, and had Loki repeat sentences, follow his finger with his eyes, and touch his index finger to his nose and then Bruce's finger.

Bruce was having Loki touch his fingertips together, one by one, which Loki was having some difficulty with, when the rest of the team arrived, unexpectedly.

"Uhm... did you guys need something?" Bruce asked.

"I figured Thor and Loki should see their rooms, get settled in," Tony said. "Everyone else decided they needed to come with."

"Since we'll be seeing so much of each other," Clint added dryly.

"Ah. So, Loki, this is the rest of the team," Bruce said. He took a moment to introduce or re-introduce everyone, but Loki did not know what to say in reply, so he said nothing.

"How is he today?" Steve inquired.

"Much the same as yesterday," Bruce answered vaguely. "I was actually in the middle of a quick exam. Can you wait a second?"

"Of course," Steve said.

"Alright, last thing," Bruce said to Loki. He put his palms up, laying his hands flat in the air between them. "I want you to push down against my hands," he said, and Loki did so. "Push, push, push. Okay. Now grab my hands. Squeeze as hard as you can. Ow, ow! Okay, good, good," Bruce pulled his hands away, and Thor laughed with pride.

"Okay," Bruce said, with an air of finality. "So aside from your head, does anything else hurt?"

"Yes," Loki gave a nod.

"Where?" Bruce frowned, concerned once again. "Legs, arms?"

"No, it hurts here," Loki said, placing his hand over his heart.

"Your chest?" Bruce was definitely more concerned now as Loki nodded. "Does it feel like your heart?" Bruce asked, and then immediately hoped that Aesir were the same inside as humans – he had no idea.

"No, my... my, uh, my," Loki rubbed at his chest in general, growing frustrated with himself. "I don't know the word."

"Are you having a hard time breathing?" Bruce guessed now.

"No," Loki shook his head, his brows scrunched trying to think of how to say it. "My cover," he said, pinching the flesh on the back of his hand. "My surface."

"Your skin?"

"Yes," Loki said quickly. "My skin here, on my chest," he said, repeating Bruce's words, and then he tried to reach over his shoulder. "And on my..."

"Back?" Bruce finished.

"Yes," Loki sighed, dropping his hand. "It hurts there."

"What does it feel like?" Bruce asked, standing up. "A sharp pain?"

"Burning," Loki said.

"Can I take a look?" Bruce questioned, although his hands weren't sure where to go to remove the rest of Loki's clothes.

"Please," Loki nodded. Thor came to help, unfastening something and lifting his brother's tunic over his head, immediately appalled by harsh red lines carved into his brother's back.

Bruce hissed in a breath and very delicately touched the outline of one of the scars. "They look infected," he noted aloud, standing up. "I'm sorry, I should have looked you over more carefully," he said, dragging open drawers to find the antiseptic he needed, and some clean bandages to dress the wounds, although they were already healing. "Does anything else hurt?" he asked as he started to dress Loki's wounds.

"That stings," Loki grit his teeth together as Bruce dabbed on the antiseptic.

"Ah, sorry," Bruce said. "It'll help the infection go away, though. Do you remember anything about how you got these?"

"No," Loki growled, his mood worsening as his frustration grew.

"That's alright. Listen, if anything else seems wrong, let me know so I can take a look, okay? Don't be afraid or embarrassed to ask."

"Okay," Loki nodded, and stayed quiet, only flinching when new spots were dabbed with the stinging antiseptic.

"Thor," Natasha said, her voice strange in the near-silence of the room. "Can I talk to you?"

Thor said nothing, but followed her and Clint into the hallway, his face dark with troubled, angry thoughts that everyone except Loki understood perfectly. Loki could not see what was obvious to the others, who saw his skin at a distance – that the scars were clearly not random. They appeared to be foreign letters or symbols which had been carved, even partially burned into Loki's flesh.

"Are those symbols Asgardian?" Natasha asked bluntly as soon as they were in the hall.

"No," Thor answered. "They are alien to me as well."

"Chitauri?" Clint guessed correctly.

"He was working with them," Natasha pointed out. "Maybe he wasn't as in control as we thought."

"Those are marks of torture," Thor stated, feeling the anger well inside of him.

"I know," Natasha sighed, all too familiar with such things.

"My brother returned to me, bloodied and half-starved," Thor said, as calmly as he could. He wanted to find one of those beasts and tear it asunder. He wanted to battle a thousand of them, to lose himself to berserker violence until his blood lust was satiated – but there was nothing to fight now. Certainly he had already slayed dozens when he had the chance, but in retrospect every killing blow he'd landed felt a thousand times too gentle, a thousand times too kind for what he now knew they had done. If he had discovered Loki's true state days before, the Midgardians would not be dragging alien corpses from their streets, they would be scraping up gore and tossing buckets of water to wash off the stink of blood.

"I'm sorry, Thor," Natasha said. "Even if we'd known, I don't think we would have been able to do anything differently. He didn't ask for help. He wouldn't stop. You know that. But he's safe now, and that's what matters. Just remember that," she urged. "Tell Steve that I'm leaving to talk to Fury." She turned on heel, and walked away at a brisk, all-business pace, Clint close behind her.

Thor remained in the hall for a moment, collecting his thoughts. The Chitauri had caught Loki, had done terrible things to him before he came to Midgard. He did not know who he hated more – those wretched creatures for breaking his brother, or himself for not being wise enough to see it and find a way to save Loki.

If he could have just caught Loki in his arms and not let go. If instead of questioning him 'why' he had been clever enough to tell him, _'It's over, Loki. No one will harm you anymore.'_

And yet... and yet, he knew that wasn't right. He did everything in his power to reason with Loki. Thor knew that even those words would not have helped stop Loki. Not even if he had told him what he dreaded to admit. _'I cannot bear to be without you. Please, come home and never leave again. Never leave **me**.'_

When Thor entered the room again, Bruce had finished bandaging Loki, and was helping him to his feet, taking the opportunity to test his balance.

"Lady Natasha and the Hawk-eyed one have gone to see the man of rage," Thor told Steve, who only acknowledged this with the barest nod.

"Natasha, Clint, Fury," Tony said to Thor, bumping him lightly on the shoulder with his fist. "Or if you prefer code names, Black Widow and Hawkface."

"Hawkeye," Steve corrected, deeply amused.

"Yeah, whatever," Tony flicked his hand in the air. "Bird-something. Or 'the one with the gorgeous ass who wears skintight pants' – I'll know you're talking about Clint. Or Steve. ...Or the Hulk. ...Shit. That could actually be anyone."

"Let's stick to our real names," Bruce suggested, his face rapidly turning red.

"I will endeavor to remember that," Thor promised, a grin threatening his lips. He mimicked Tony's light punch to the shoulder, except for the part where Tony's had actually been _light_ , Thor's gentle tap was still a punch that left Tony gaping in silent internalized agony.

Oblivious to his own strength, Thor returned to Loki and Bruce, smiling with approval to see his brother on his feet and looking rather well, despite everything.

"Look at you, Brother, still strutting about half-naked," Thor teased. "You should be more considerate. An attractive form like yours is dangerous to onlookers – it is only polite to cover yourself so they will not go ill with lust." He picked up Loki's discarded tunic and brought it over Loki's head, dressing him like a small child. Loki grinned sincerely despite the rough manhandling, finding a deep joy in Thor's display of care.

"There," Thor murmured, fixing his brother's clothes just so. None of the white bandages were visible anymore, nor the red scars that they covered up and the inflamed skin in between. It was almost as if Loki were whole and flawless once again. "That's much better."

x


	3. Chapter 3

Tony wanted to show the gods to their new rooms. Bruce accompanied the trio only part of the way. He monitored Loki for a while, noting that he walked with a little difficulty. At times Loki needed to rest against Thor, although he never had to ask – Thor was incredibly mindful of him, and whenever Loki stopped he would hug his brother against his side and support his weight.

"Does it hurt to put weight on your left leg?" Bruce asked, concerned by Loki's stiff movements.

"No," Loki paused, putting full weight equally on his legs, and then shifting from one to the other, as if testing.

"Any pain at all?" Bruce persisted. "You were limping."

"No, I just... it's kind of like I forgot how to walk," Loki said, embarrassed. "Does that sound idiotic? It just feels like I have to remind myself of every motion."

"I'm the same way when I've had a lot to drink," Tony grinned.

Bruce glanced at Tony, unimpressed, and made a low noise of concern at Loki, looking him over once again. "When you get to your room, try to settle in and get some rest," he advised. "I'll see you tomorrow. Page me sooner if anything happens."

Loki nodded, unsure of how he could 'page' Bruce – but someone else would know how to contact him, certainly?

"Look after him," Bruce added to Thor before he went his own way.

"Well, it's just us now, kiddos," Tony said, clapping his hands together. "Come on, this is usually like a thirty second walk and it's been five minutes."

It wasn't just Loki's awkward gait that slowed them down. Everything seemed to fascinate Loki on the short trip to his room. Little things that Thor had taken for granted – the automatic doors, the height of the ceiling, the light sources, the pieces of art on the walls. Everything drew his eye, everything caught his attention. At one point, Thor had to grab Loki in his arms to keep him from falling over – the slighter god had been attempting to walk and stare up at the fluorescent lights at the same time, and tripped over his own feet instead.

"Be careful, love," Thor murmured, holding Loki until he was steady on his feet once again.

Loki mumbled an apology, but remained entranced by every single thing they passed. Thor knew very well that Loki's curiosity was not a thing he could fight – instead he kept an arm around Loki's waist so that even while his brother paid no attention to where they were going, he could be safely guided.

"How does this work?" Loki asked repeatedly, about the lights, the elevator, the automatic doors, the computer screens, and the occasional robot that had been created by Stark. He seemed annoyed to get no real response, since Tony just kept saying 'electricity', and Thor knew from the line of his brother's lips that Loki had already determined he would find the answers himself if he had to.

"Here we are," Tony announced at last. The end of their journey had been a ride in the elevator, concluded by stepping out into a small hallway that went nowhere – it was just a space between the elevator doors and another door on the opposite wall. A potted plant in the corner made a valiant attempt to break up the blocky, awkward space.

"It's small," Thor stated.

Tony chuckled. "Funny. No, your room is through this door," he said, gesturing blandly at the nondescript door. But he didn't open it – instead he was playing with a security pad on the wall beside it.

What troubled Thor at the moment was that there was only one door. He'd thought that he and Loki had each been promised a room. Perhaps that arrangement had turned out to be impossible. Even a tower this large only had a finite number of rooms, after all. This wasn't Asgard – Thor understood that it could take months or even years to construct buildings here. But that was fine, Thor decided. He'd shared rooms with his brother before, and he could again. In a way, this would even be a good thing, and he suddenly looked forward to it. At least that way Thor wouldn't have to worry about Loki's room being too remote from his own.

He wondered if Loki would allow him to sleep beside him in the same bed, or if such closeness would bother him, considering that from Loki's perspective he probably seemed like a stranger. But judging by the way Loki clung to his side like they were children again, Thor had a feeling that Loki would allow him to stay. He missed his brother like this - the young Loki had that stayed close to his side, as if Thor could protect him from the whole world. That was back when they were inseparable. Back when they thought that darkness and monsters only came at night. Back before Loki had started pushing Thor away. Or maybe it was the other way around. But even if Loki wanted him to sleep on the floor, Thor would oblige. He'd do whatever it took to stay close to Loki, to take care of him. He'd come too close to losing his brother before.

"I'm going to give you and Loki access," Tony explained as he fiddled with the technology. "You'll both have clearance for pretty much everything, minus a few details, but since this is your residence, it's private. Only your codes will open the door. No one else can come in without your permission. Except for me, because I have codes to everything, but I promise I won't drunkenly crawl into bed with you. Often."

In turn, Tony had Thor and Loki place their hands to the screen and process them into the system, so that their unique hand prints would open the door. When they were finally integrated, Tony let them in – Loki put his palm to the screen one more time, and the door unlocked.

The tower was so large, Tony didn't bother to specify that when he said Thor and Loki had their own rooms, he really meant they had an entire floor to themselves. The door did not open to a single bedroom – it opened into a luxurious apartment that encompassed the entire floor. 

The kitchen was enormous, only separated from the even-more-spacious living room by a step. Floor-length windows lined one side of the living room, and beyond them there was even a terrace so that Thor or Loki might step out and get fresh air if they liked. Every necessary appliance or creature comfort was already provided, naturally – including a fully loaded entertainment system that neither Asgardian even knew how to turn on. Thor and Loki did indeed have their own rooms, with king and queen sized beds, respectively (Tony had made sure to mention that, finding something funny about it), and walk-in closets that could have been smaller bedrooms in their own right. The bathroom was as ostentatious as everything else and included both a shower and a spa bath.

"Sorry," Tony said, almost embarrassed. "You'll have to share the bathroom and stuff. This is more of a guest room kind of thing. The kitchen isn't too well stocked yet, but Steve wants us all to try having a sit-down dinner or something as a team anyway, so you won't be eating those here. So aside from dinner, think of what you'll want to eat and let Jarvis know."

"Jarvis?" Thor questioned.

"My computer," Tony explained.

"At your service, sir," a disembodied, distinctly British voice said.

Loki actually startled, his head turning upwards, searching. "Your ceiling has a voice."

"No, that's Jarvis," Tony said.

"Ah. He keeps his servant in the ceiling," Thor stated wisely, entirely incorrect.

"Uh, no," Tony frowned. "Suddenly Loki's way of explaining it makes more sense. Jarvis isn't a real person, okay? He doesn't have a body or anything."

Thor looked thoroughly puzzled about how this was possible, until Loki spoke again.

"A spirit," Loki concluded, and Thor nodded in understanding.

"Err.... yeah, we'll go with that," Tony decided. "So if you need anything at all, just ask Jarvis."

"What if he cannot hear us?" Loki questioned.

"We will speak loudly for him," Thor assured his brother.

"Yeah, yeah, okay, no," Tony frowned, waving his hands. "You can speak normally, Thor, he'll hear you. Jarvis is in every room of the tower, and he's also in my suits of armor."

"Every room?" Loki echoed, suddenly looking paler.

"He can't _see_ you, he's only a voice," Tony said quickly, lying through his teeth. He didn't think he could make two Norse gods understand that even though Jarvis was wired into security cameras throughout the building, he didn't give a damn what they did. He wasn't programmed to. But Tony had a feeling that Loki would be too self-conscious to even eat in the building if he knew about the security cameras at all. Thor on the other hand... dude wasn't shy about _who_ saw him naked, and Fury could attest to that fact.

"So if you need anything, if you don't understand something, if you need to call for me or Bruce or anyone, if you get lost on your way to the dining hall, just ask Jarvis," Tony said. "He can help you 99.99% of the time. I'm gonna go back to my labs now. You guys can do whatever you want. Oh, with one rule though – you have to keep an eye on Loki."

"I shall," Thor pledged. He turned to Loki, who stood so quietly beside him, confused and concerned by everything. Thor brushed a single piece of hair away from Loki's face, a small gesture.

"Don't break anything," Tony added, mostly to Thor as he left. In the elevator, Tony told Jarvis to keep a close watch on them, which Jarvis answered with a dry remark about babysitting.

 

////

Left alone at last, the Aesir began to explore their new environment. Loki wandered into the living room, staring at all of the strange technology there. Normally, his magic would lend him a sort of intuition about how these things worked. Technology was so much like magic, and it all came naturally to him. If he simply began pressing buttons and following his instincts, he could easily figure out how everything worked. But at the moment, Loki didn't even particularly remember that he possessed such magic. There was a tugging feeling of impossible familiarity, but he was so confused overall that he didn't dare to touch anything.

Thor, on the other hand, was ravaging the kitchen with an adventurous spirit, opening cabinets and drawers, tasting any and every type of food that caught his interest.

His splurge was interrupted by a mouthful of powdered cayenne pepper.

"Sir," Jarvis interrupted while Thor spluttered and managed to get himself a glass of water. "What you have just ingested is a spice used for flavoring food, intended to be consumed in small quantities. May I suggest that you refrain from eating anything else directly from that cupboard?"

Loki laughed at Thor from the living room. The thunderer wiped his mouth and drank water until the heat in his mouth was more bearable.

Thor and Loki spent the better part of the day in their new home, just getting used to the environment. It was oddly comforting for Loki, who felt confused about everything, to realize that in some ways Thor was experiencing the same confusion, as this world was still new to Thor. There were things they could discover together, like the settings for the bath, and the lights.

"They use electricity for _everything_ ," Thor laughed, finding it all very amusing.

Jarvis turned the television on for them, as neither of them even knew what it was meant for at first, until Thor realized it was similar to a scrying mirror. This box of moving pictures appealed to Loki, who sat down on the couch and watched with idle interest.

The thunderer straightened the mess he'd made of the kitchen, shut the flung-open cabinet doors, and padded softly into the living room. Loki sat so calmly, watching the pictures on the box with mild interest. He looked so different like this. Usually Loki kept himself immaculately groomed. He was hopeless with his own hair, and slicking it back was the only thing he would tolerate – but now it was left in some untamed natural state, so long that it was beginning to curl softly around his face. His boots and heavy armor were gone, of course, leaving him in just his loose tunic and simple pants.

Of all things, seeing his brother in this state of undress was what drove the reality of the situation home for Thor. Loki would _never_ allow himself to be seen in what amounted to his underclothes. Maybe only if he were wounded and needed to be tended to or else bleed to death, and even then he would be very _unhappy_ about it. Thor felt he should be glad to finally see Loki let his barriers down, but instead it struck him in an odd way, making his heart ache. It wasn't as if Loki had finally found any peace of mind, after all, or forgiven Thor for whatever past they held between them, and _chosen_ to let Thor see him so defenseless. He just didn't know any better.

Thor hadn't been aware that he had been standing there, staring at his brother for so long until the smaller god shifted, hugging his knees to his chest.

"Do you like this?" Loki questioned, his eyes not actually turning to address Thor – just staring at the illuminated screen.

"Of course not," Thor blurted out, feeling heat blossom in his face. "I take no pleasure in seeing you so lost, brother."

"I meant the..." Loki waved his hand vaguely at the magic box of endless images.

"Oh," Thor glanced at the box and felt his face grow even hotter with embarrassment. "I suppose I do not know it well," he admitted, closing the distance between them so he could sit down next to Loki. The gap still between them was larger than Thor had intended it to be, and seemed insurmountable. He kept his eyes on the glowing box, trying to find interest in it. "Such things are not popular in Asgard. The mortals tell me it is entertaining here. Meant to pass time. I have not had much time to spare since arriving."

"I suppose we do now," Loki said quietly. 

Thor nodded in agreement and both lapsed into silence, trying to find interest or meaning in whatever was showing on the television, trying to distract themselves, but of course, it was all useless.

Loki dropped the pretense, turning sideways on the couch so that he could face Thor. "Please speak," he requested with a small sigh. "I cannot guess at what you're thinking if you do not speak."

"I..." Thor seemed genuinely surprised that Loki wanted to talk, and was at a loss. "I don't know what to say."

Loki snorted softly, draping his arm across the back of the couch. "Yet it is _my_ head that is supposed to be empty," he teased.

Thor gave Loki the most curious look, his brow crinkling ever so slightly as he studied his brother, and then he broke into one of those huge, warm grins that made Loki's toes tingle.

"Even now your tongue is sharp," Thor laughed. It was actually a relief to hear Loki's jibes again. His brother made nettlesome remarks as easily as other people breathed. He had always worried that Loki did not tease – that underneath his playful mockery was real disdain, real resentment. That perhaps he had caused offense and Loki hated him as much as other people he had cut to shreds with his silvered tongue. But with his memory washed clean as it was, the sharpness was still there, the foil that could tease lightly or wound deeply with a mere change of tone. It simply came from Loki's nature, Thor realized. No grudges, no resentment, no ill will. In fact, Thor only saw a fondness in Loki's eyes, a kind of genuine shine that came from friendship. This was Loki's form of affection, if anything.

"What do you mean by sharp?" Loki asked.

"Clever," Thor supplied quickly. "You've always had a way with words. Back home, they called you silver tongued. You could turn vinegar to honey, or cut a man to shreds. Words in your mouth were as good as a sword in a warrior's hand."

Loki frowned at this, despite how Thor spoke so brightly, as if it were a wonderful thing. What he said to Thor had been in jest, meant with the lightest of hearts, but still the words weren't kind. Yet they had rolled off his tongue as easily as the blink of an eye. He liked Thor, and he expressed it by insulting him without even thinking.

"What else did they call me back home?" Loki questioned.

Thor's silence confirmed the nagging suspicion in Loki's chest. He didn't see himself doing much good with the skill to be a complete shit.

"Was I that awful?" Loki muttered, resting his chin on his knees. He shouldn't have even asked – doing so only demanded pity, because he already knew the answer. If he could treat Thor like that so quickly, Loki wondered what he was capable of if he truly hated someone. And he wasn't sure if he actually wanted to know. He saw it in the way the mortals looked at him, every nerve on edge. Everything about their body language screamed out at him. Even Bruce, who had been so kind, was revealing simply in the way that his hands were too light, afraid to touch, and not for Loki's sake. Even the brave and flippant Tony Stark had the slightest waver in his voice, a wariness in his eyes. That kind of unsettling distrust came from something a lot worse than mere words.

"You and I have made mistakes, nothing else," Thor said, closing the gap between himself and Loki. For an instant, Loki felt something akin to panic – he did not want this man so close to him, a man who knew him far more intimately than he felt he could ever again know himself, a man who already knew he was crying before the first tear fell. But at the same time, Thor was so _warm_ in indescribably good ways, and his huge arms engulfed Loki so easily, trapping him against real, solid flesh, and gods, he hadn't realized how much he needed things like _solid_ and _real_ right now.

Loki let himself get lost in Thor's embrace – whatever was left of him to lose. He tucked his face into the crook of Thor's neck, finding the darkness and body heat desperately comforting. Every breath he inhaled was filled with Thor's warmth and scent, and it soothed something in the darkest recesses of his mind, as if Thor's skin held a familiarity when nothing else in this world did anymore.

"There's nothing that cannot be forgiven, little one," Thor murmured, his voice a low rumble of thunder so close to Loki. "No matter what you remember, no matter what you may hear, never doubt that there is goodness in you, Loki. Never doubt that I love you."

x


	4. Chapter 4

Loki didn't feel like he had slept at all before a low voice pulled him out of his dreams.

"Loki," it said. "It's time to wake up. You'll be cross with me if I let you sleep the day away."

He inwardly groaned with reluctance and stretched his shoulders. He did not want to move, even from this odd position. Loki had ended up sprawled across the bed in some twisting, cat-like way, neither lying fully on his side nor his stomach, his head resting against his folded arms instead of a pillow.

"Loki," he was prompted again, the tone so light, but more than enough to sever the tenuous sinews of sleep.

Loki sat upright within an instant, the warm, dark world of dreaming lost to him and replaced by hard reality. The room he awoke in was all white and muted grey, flooded with pale light through thin, gauzy curtains. There was a blocky dresser and a night stand - both made of wood and painted black - and a couple doors, but not much else. Everything was stark and foreign. His head felt worryingly empty when he tried to think. All that he knew for sure was that this wasn't his home. It was far too impersonal to be home. But it was still peaceful here. 

There was a stranger at his side... although 'stranger' was hardly the right word, because he was the only thing in the room, maybe even in the world that felt familiar to Loki right then. The best way to describe him was that he was golden. His hair and skin seemed to radiate the glow of a late summer sun, and his smile was as brilliant and as warm.

This man was a warrior, Loki knew. His biceps were as large as Loki's head, after all, and Loki felt like he had seen this golden man wearing armor before. He looked like he lived in the field of battle, like he could tear someone apart. But his smile was so sincere, and Loki somehow knew that his hands were gentle. That _knowing_ was from his memory, Loki noted to himself, and finally a name came to mind – Thor. And he knew that he loved Thor and never wanted to be far from his side. And Loki remembered that Thor had held him tightly in his arms last night and told him he loved him, too. Oh.

Everything else came back quickly. The doctor, Bruce, and the other strange people. The bearded one, Tony, owned this place and had granted Thor and himself a place to stay. Loki had to remember to thank him if he saw him later.

"Are you hungry?" Thor questioned. "Jarvis assisted me in finding recipes for your favorite foods. Unfortunately, some of them do not appear to exist on Midgard. Perhaps you could make better sense of how these mortal ovens work. I cannot find where to light the flame."

The voice in the wall, Loki reminded himself, and Midgard, this world that was alien to both of them. "Yes, I'm hungry." He laughed silently as he kicked off the rest of his blankets and rose out of bed. At least he would not be alone in his confusion.

\- - -

"Sir, Natasha Romanoff and Clint Barton are arriving," Jarvis reported while Tony was fiddling with one of his new toys, trying to work out some kinks in the design. "Would you like me to ask Ms. Potts to intercept?"

Tony and Jarvis both knew well enough that trying to lock the agents out wouldn't work. Truth be told, Tony knew that if Natasha was the least bit determined, she could get through his security system. Whether that was by hacking the system itself or just blowing a hole in the door, it would only slow her down for a second and cause a lot of unnecessary damage just to avoid human contact. If Tony really wanted to be left alone, Pepper was his only plausible line of defense – she could intervene and ask to take a memo. But Tony was feeling more amicable these days.

"Let them in," Tony said, waving a hand that was covered in grease without ever taking his eyes off his project. "And let them know where to find me."

"Very good, Sir."

Some long and all-too-short minutes later, Natasha and Clint came into the lab. Clint immediately draped himself across a rolling desk chair and began twirling around like an overgrown child. Natasha managed to not even roll her eyes at him – she was so used to it by now.

"I told Fury what happened," Natasha stated. "As much as I know for certain, at least."

"And what did he say?" Tony questioned, a bit curt. He hated having his toys taken away from him, and he suspected that was what was about to happen here.

"I can't tell you exactly what he said," Natasha replied.

Tony paused, actually surprised by this answer. He set down his new contraption and turned around to give her a quizzical look, even more confused to see a strange little smile on her lips. "Are you kidding me right now? I thought we were on the same team, Romanoff."

"Technically we _are_ ," Natasha agreed, "and technically the Avengers Initiative is still in the early stages of being an actual thing."

"It's a thing," Tony asserted, gesturing at her with a wrench in his hand. "We have Cap on board, and an official Avengers clubhouse," he waved his hands around to indicate the entire building, "and I actually agreed to this thing, and so did _Thor_ and _Bruce_ , and I thought you two were all for it, too. So whether or not that old pirate actually agrees to it, it _is_ a thing."

Natasha folded her arms, amused. "Okay, yes, it's a thing, Tony."

Tony dropped his arms to his sides, a little confused. "So we're supposed to be teammates. And teammates don't keep secrets from each other. 'Secrets, secrets are no fun,' Natasha."

Natasha actually laughed now. "I'm not withholding information, Tony. I just wanted to get your attention. When I said I couldn't tell you what Fury said, it's because it wouldn't be very lady-like of me to repeat that kind of language." She fluttered her eyelashes while Clint snorted from his seat and continued to spin.

"Aha," Tony finally caught on and eased up, grinning "So he was-?"

"Fucking pissed," Natasha supplied, a grin crossing her face that matched Tony's.

"My ears," Clint protested.

"He was particularly angry that we sat on the information for a couple days before telling him," Natasha said. "He also wasn't particularly moved when I told him that Loki doesn't remember anything and had possibly been tortured. None of that matters to him. He wants Loki locked in a dark cell, period. Of course I told him that unless Loki acts up again, that just isn't going to fly."

"I wish I'd been there to see his face," Tony snickered.

"No you don't," Natasha snorted. "Fury wasn't happy, but I had to remind him who he's dealing with. If anyone laid a hand on Loki right now, we'd have one extremely angry god with elemental powers coming down on us, and I don't think any if us want that. Not unless it's completely necessary. I honestly think he could go toe-to-toe with the Hulk and win."

"To be fair, he'd be less pretty after the fight, but yeah," Tony agreed. "Thor's a heavy hitter. We're lucky he's on our side."

"And Fury's well aware of how lucky we are. He's just not convinced that Loki's actually on our side," Natasha said. "Long story short, he's sending some SHIELD specialists in to confirm Bruce's diagnosis. It's the only way he agreed to not tear the roof off of this place and drag Loki out."

"I like how he trusts us enough to save the world, but he doesn't trust us enough to know what we're talking about with this," Tony commented.

Natasha sort of shrugged, and then there was a sudden thunderous explosion of noise – a crack of lightning and thunder that was so close to the building that the room lit up white and Clint fell off the chair with a startled cry.

"What the hell?!" Clint questioned, scrambling to his feet, his hands over his ears. All three were on edge, watching and waiting for an attack. Natasha already had a gun drawn and Tony was a heartbeat away from summoning his suit.

"Sir, there's been a small, confined fire on one of the residential floors," Jarvis stated. "The situation is under control but I recommend that your esteemed _guests_ have supervision from now on."

"Thor," Tony figured. "Jarvis, contact Bruce immediately and make sure he knows everything is okay."

"Of course," the AI answered, and the trio headed up to see what the hell was going on.

\- -

There was a veil of smoke lingering in the air when the three entered the apartment, and one casualty – the oven. It looked like it had exploded, but thankfully Tony's robots had been smart enough to douse the appliance with a fire extinguishing foam.

"Damn it," Tony cursed, rolling his eyes and moving on through the apartment, trying to find the troublesome gods. He was about to ask Jarvis if they were still in the building when he heard Thor's voice.

"Loki! Brother, please..."

They found Thor in one of the bedrooms, and watched him from the doorway, bemused. The thunderer was half sprawled, half crouched on the floor, peering under the bed.

"Thor?" Natasha questioned. Thor himself and sat back on his haunches, a frown on his face. "What happened?"

"Loki's hidden himself under the bed and won't come out," Thor answered.

"Okay. I can see that, but we heard and saw a lightning strike, and the oven is destroyed. You're lucky nothing exploded."

Thor suddenly looked embarrassed, scrubbing a hand over his face. "It was an accident," he said, almost sounding angry. "I only wanted to light the blasted thing." He flattened himself against the floor again, focused on Loki. "Brother," he said, "it will never happen again, I swear to you." He half-crawled under the bed, but was only able to get his head and shoulder under the low frame before his bulk was too much. He tried to reach for Loki, to pull him out, but the angle was awkward and his fingers could only brush Loki's shirt. Immediately, Loki curled further away, a small noise escaping him.

Thor wanted to rage. Not at Loki - not exactly, but at what kept him from reaching him. Heavy as the bed was, he knew it would be nothing to flip it clear across the room to get to his brother. He also knew that it would only solidify Loki's fear of him, and that wasn't something Thor could fight. The fact that there was nothing he could _do_ and that his own actions had caused this in the first place only made Thor more frustrated with himself. But Thor sighed with resignation and let himself slump against the floor. "There's nothing to be afraid of, I promise. The lightning... it listens to me. It came because I bid it. I did not think. I am a fool and I'm sorry. But it would not strike you. Please... don't be afraid of me."

In the dark, safe space under the bed, Loki unfurled just a bit, relaxing slightly and drawing a slow, deep breath. Thor seized the opportunity at once, managing to grab onto Loki's shirt, but just barely. He pulled Loki towards him, losing the tenuous hold on his brother's shirt as he did. At the same time, Loki brought his leg back as if trying to kick him. Thor snatched Loki's ankle instead and didn't let go, pulling Loki from under the bed in one relentless motion.

Loki was on his back, still trembling from adrenaline, blinking up at Thor as if he wasn't sure whether he wanted to hide again or punch him. Before he could decide, Thor pulled him up, hauling Loki into a crushing embrace, his face tucked tight against Loki's neck as if he'd been the one terrified. It wasn't was Loki had expected, but he immediately clung to Thor in return, his limbs wrapping around Thor like strangling vines.

"You okay there, Reindeer Games?" Tony questioned, amused. He laughed when Loki glared at him. "Jarvis," Tony said as he left the room, "please tell me you caught this on security footage."

"Of course, sir," they heard Jarvis answer from the kitchen.

Natasha shook her head and followed him, with Clint close on her heels.

Thor still didn't let Loki go, and Loki was grateful for it. The lightning had been deafening. When it struck, he'd felt the concussion in his chest, and the pounding had echoed long afterward. It had felt as if for one terrifying moment, his world had shattered, leaving him falling into empty space. The tight crevice under the bed had felt safe to him - like it grounded him, holding him close to the earth. But Thor's embrace was more comforting by far, now that he was no longer afraid of him. It had been an accident, Thor said. But that still meant...

"You can summon lightning?" Loki questioned, his voice thin and shaky, yet somehow full of vexation.

Thor snorted a laugh, a huff of warm air against Loki's neck that made his pulse go just a little faster. "Yes. Occasionally."

Loki thumped his fist against Thor's shoulder repeatedly. "Don't do that again!" he fussed, "Ever!"

"I promise I won't if you promise not to leave me. Ever," Thor countered, his voice low in Loki's ear, and filled with a strange sadness. 

"As if I could hide under a bed forever," Loki snorted.

Thor held Loki a little closer. "Your heart is still pounding." 

"It matches my ears still ringing, then."

"Okay, so here's the deal," Natasha said, coming back into the room and leaning on the door frame. "The oven's dead. Thor did a great job killing it. So we're gonna have you come upstairs while the kitchen gets fixed. Tony wants me to tell you it's just so you're not underfoot, but really he thinks you're both incapable of being left alone without wrecking the place now. Also, you might not have an oven for a while so if you guys wanna eat, you'll have to raid the kitchen in the common area for a while. Help yourselves. Just make sure you warn someone if the coffee is running low, because you don't wanna see Tony go without caffeine."

"Thank you, Natasha," Thor said, "For being forthright."

"You're welcome. I'm more honest than people give me credit for," Natasha replied, with a tight-lipped smile. "Liars always are," she added, glancing at Loki before she left, but he missed the meaning of it.

"Let's go where we won't be 'underfoot'," Thor said to Loki.

Loki started trying to get out of Thor's arms and onto his own feet, but instead Thor hefted him over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and stood up. Loki squeaked – actually squeaked – when the ground rushed away from him. He slipped forward from Thor's arms, and for a second he was certain that he would fall face-first back onto the ground, but Thor tightened his grip around Loki's knees and patted his backside as if to reassure him.

"Let me down," Loki gasped, his face burning red, and not just from gravity.

"I think not," Thor chuckled. "A little mouse like you is likely to scurry off at the first opportunity."

"I'm a mouse now?" Loki questioned, incredulous.

"Aye. A little, fearful one," Thor grinned, and carry Loki upstairs to the common area. He didn't let Loki onto his own two feet until they were just outside of the door, and then he set him down carefully, making a show to straighten Loki's shirt and smooth out strands of unruly hair while Loki glowered at him – which to Thor wasn't very menacing, but instead very cute indeed.

"I rather dislike you," Loki mumbled.

"You're a rather poor liar," Thor replied, cheerful, and held the door for him like a true gentlegod.

Clint had apparently beaten them upstairs and was slouched on the couch in front of the enormous wide-screen television, a controller in his hand. Not sure what else to do, the gods came over to investigate, and Loki eventually claimed a comfy chair in the corner of the room, tucking himself into it.

Thor perched on the arm of the same chair and they watched the screen as the car Clint was controlling was suddenly struck by several projectiles – a chicken, a goat, and a cow, all of which followed after him as he spun out of control and careened off of a cliff. Loki couldn't help but snort while Clint swore, especially when, on the underwater camera, the goat swam by, stiff-legged and upside-down.

Clint turned in his seat and looked at Thor. "You wanna play?" he offered, holding out the controller. "I'll show you how. It's not that hard, and we can do multiplayer and try to blow each other up if you want."

"What game is this?" Thor asked, hesitant, but already rose to his feet to join Clint on the couch, as it seemed the controller would not reach much further than that.

"Extreme Farming 4," Clint said, letting Thor take the controller. "But so far I don't know if I have an actual farm somewhere or not. It's just... flying barn animals. And after the last cutscene, I think my character is in love with... a chicken named Emily?"

"What is this game about?" Thor questioned, turning the controller over in his hands. "Is there an objective?"

"I... I have no idea," Clint shook his head. "Let's make you a save file."

\- - -

Within an hour, Thor had somehow unlocked more achievements than Clint had managed to before, including an entire stage of the game Clint had never seen before. Thor was currently piloting a helicopter against a Godzilla-sized goose that laid exploding eggs.

"This is such a weird game," Clint muttered.

"Your shots aren't doing anything. You need to find its weak spot," Loki said.

"If you think you can do better, I'd love to see you try!" Thor retorted.

"I could," Loki said, too stubborn to back down.

"Come here and do it then, since you're clearly the expert."

"Fine! Let me," Loki agreed, getting out of his seat.

Thor jabbed the pause button and let Loki take the controller.

"How do you start it?" Loki asked, only to find the button on his own... and then immediately crash the helicopter and kill himself. 

"I told you," Thor said, taking the controller back and booting up the last save spot.

"You've been playing the whole time, how am I supposed to know the controls?" Loki rolled his eyes and sat back down.

"So you agree with me!" Thor grinned, gloating over his apparent victory in their argument. 

"Shut up. Just because I can't do it myself doesn't mean I'm not right."

"Loki's right, there has to be a trick to it or you'll keep getting crushed," Clint said. "When you get close to it, try aiming for its belly this time. That's usually where the weak spot is."

Five minutes later, Natasha came upstairs and plopped down on the couch next to Clint. She was followed shortly by Steve, Tony, and Bruce, who were talking amongst each other.

"I was just telling Steve about the incident earlier," Tony said. "How did that happen again, Thor? Did the oven try to attack you?"

Thor shook his head, thinly pressed between amusement and annoyance. "I was only trying to get it to work."

"By destroying it," Tony concluded. "Makes sense."

"I suppose I overestimated the capability of your frail Midgardian tech," Thor replied, and Steve burst out laughing.

"Ooh. Ouch. I'd be insulted, but I don't design ovens," Tony said. "Maybe I should."

"If people wanted an oven with a bad paint job, they'd buy an EasyBake," Natasha said.

"Fsss. _Burn_ ," Clint whispered, and the two pounded fists.

Tony was about to speak up again, but stopped short when he finally noticed what was happening on the TV screen.

"Why are you... are you shooting a giant chicken in the cloaca?"

"It's a goose," Clint answered absent-mindedly.

"Um. Okay. So again I ask you, _why?_ "

"Why ask questions?" Natasha retorted, just to be difficult.

"It's trying to destroy New York," Loki said.

Tony opened his mouth to ask Loki why he was sitting in the chair upside-down but then thought better of it. If Loki was entertained, he decided he didn't care.

In the game, Thor was killed by an exploding egg to the windshield.

"Okay," Clint said when Thor tossed the controls aside, apparently done with the game. "The belly doesn't seem to be a good strategy."

"You should aim for the eyes next time," Loki suggested. "Blind it. Or fire directly into its mouth."

"That's not sporting," Thor frowned.

"So?" Loki scrunched his eyebrows at Thor in disbelief. "You're trying to kill the damned thing, who cares about 'sporting'?"

"I do," Thor said, a little heated. "Any true warrior does. A fight should be honorable."

Loki's eyes widened and he giggled at Thor in disbelief. "You're upset? Why? It's not even real."

"Suppose it was real, then," Thor said.

Loki raised his eyebrows . "What? A giant goose destroying the city?"

"No," Thor didn't look amused. "Just one _real_ person, in a fight. You'd take a cheap shot and blind your opponent?"

"There's no such thing as a cheap shot," Loki scoffed. "If I was in a fight, and it was life or death, I'd do worse than that. I'd claw their eyes out if I had to. Hell, I'd tear their throat out with my bare teeth. I don't care. If I actually want them dead, they're going to be dead, end of story."

"That's so brutal," Natasha said. "I like it."

Thor shook his head in disapproval.

"You're really angry with me?" Loki asked, finally sitting upright. "I'm just being realistic."

"You shouldn't say those things," Thor muttered, and left, walking off to the kitchen area.

Loki stared after him in abject disbelief, and then sprang to his feet to follow.

"I'd let him cool off if I were you," Tony said.

Loki glared at Tony. "He's my brother and I'll talk to him if I want to. Even if he _is_ being unreasonable."

"There's only so many electrical appliances in this tower," Tony lamented to himself.

"I think we're talking about entirely different situations," Natasha mused aloud as Loki went to find his brother. "Loki does have a fair point. There are times when lethal force is your only option, and being hesitant about it will get you killed instead."

"I don't think it's that black and white," Bruce disagreed. "There are always other options."

"Yeah, there's always the option of dying because you don't want to get blood on your hands," Natasha said.

Bruce just gave her a tight smile in return.

Loki found Thor standing in front of the open refrigerator, staring blankly at its contents.

"Why are you angry?"

Thor grit his teeth. "I'm not."

Loki slid himself up onto the nearest counter top. "Clearly you are."

"Can you just let it go?"

"I don't want you mad at me!"

"That'll be a challenge, because you are absolutely infuriating," Thor said, meaning for his tone to be light, but immediately regretting the heavy silence that followed his words.

"Sorry I'm such a bother," Loki grumbled, hopping back onto the floor.

Thor caught his arm, stopping Loki before he could leave. The refrigerator shut on its own, leaving them in slightly dimmer light. "Stop it, that's not what I meant. No... actually, I did. You are infuriating at times. I don't know what to do with you."

"And you're an idiot," Loki replied.

"I just think a fight should be fair," Thor said.

Loki softened somewhat. "Well of course you do. You're built like..." he found himself at a loss for the word he wanted and shook his head instead, pressing onward. "You could afford to let someone take a free shot. You could break someone in half if you forgot to hug them _gently_. If I get into a fight, it'd have to be something drastic and I'm not going to waste my time playing around or making sure they have a 'fair' chance against me. That's just stupid. I'm going to do whatever it takes to win."

"If your opponent is disarmed, you should accept their surrender. It's th--"

"That's not even what I was talking about!"

"No, you're talking about killing people," Thor said.

"I don't want to kill anyone!" Loki snapped. "I don't even want to fight anyone! That's not my idea of a good time!"

"So why are you fighting with me now?!"

"Because you're being stupid and you're not listening to me!"

Thor stared at Loki for a long time, surprised to find that there was no real malice in Loki's eyes, only annoyance and frustration... and even more surprisingly, some humor and affection. He forced himself to mentally take a step back, reminding himself of what he had resolved to do... that given the opportunity, he would talk these issues through with Loki. And Loki was giving him the opportunity to speak, but Thor just wasn't sure where to begin. He wasn't sure how he could explain to Loki why his opinion was upsetting without having to also explain that, despite how Loki apparently felt, he _had_ taken lives. That conversation was a double-edged sword, and one that Thor wasn't ready to throw himself on.

"I'm sorry," Thor said instead.

Loki sighed softly, leaning back against the counter. "I don't even know why we're fighting."

"I don't either," Thor lied, willing to let to go. He gave Loki an apologetic smile, which was brilliantly returned – a sincere grin that Thor felt he hadn't seen in forever. He never thought he'd have Loki back again, much less be at peace with him. Out of all the times he'd wished he could turn back the hands of time, this was his wish come true. In its context, it felt a little wrong, and a lot like lying, but he'd take it. He'd do anything to keep history from repeating itself, to set things right, to keep Loki at his side where he belonged. He could make Loki understand some other way. He could fix all of these broken shards that kept making themselves known.

"I don't want to fight," Loki said, rubbing his belly. "I want to eat. You promised me food... and then you blew up the oven..."

"I forgot you can't feed yourself," Thor joked. "How awful of me."

"Terrible," Loki agreed.

Thor started opening up cupboards, a mischievous smile on his face. "Let's see how much of a mess we can make before anyone tries to stop us..."


	5. Chapter 5

"You should move into the tower," was the first thing Tony said to Steve at dinner.

Steve paused, glass of ice water to his lips. "Ah, no thanks. You offered before, remember?"

The entire team was assembled around Tony's dining table. Tony and Steve were seated next to each other. Natasha sat with her feet in Clint's lap, mostly finished with her meal. Clint continued to pick at his food, watching Natasha with interest. Across the table, Thor shoved his face with his second helping, both he and Bruce encouraging Loki to try the various Midgardian food, Thor endorsing its flavor while Bruce informed Loki about the origin of each dish.

"Are you refusing because of the psycho god over here?" Tony jerked his thumb at Thor, although everyone knew he meant Loki. "Hey, pal, I think your mouth is at maximum capacity," he warned Thor. In response, the Norse god who was apparently part chipmunk attempted to smile with all of that food in his mouth.

Tony slapped a hand over his eyes and turned back to Steve. "Seriously, why wouldn't you move in? You'd have the finest luxuries, no need to commute...." He paused, his face growing serious, and he asked in a stage whisper, "Do you hate being around us?"

"I- No, I don't hate being around you guys," Steve said, smiling at Tony's dramatic accusation.

"No, no, you can be honest with me. I know that Bruce is loud and annoying and in general a total narcissistic asshole," Tony said, catching the other scientist's attention, who gave him a crooked smirk and shook his head. "Oh wait," Tony laughed. "That's me."

"I don't know if I could," Steve said, fiddling with his food.

"It is a social thing?" Tony persisted. "I get it, I really do. I mean, I go out to these parties, meet the ladies, kiss hands, shake babies, meet the other pompous jackasses and we do our thing and put on a great show but when I come home sometimes I just want to go into my lab and veg out."

"By 'veg out' you mean design complex hardware and software systems," Clint gave Tony a pointed stare.

"Well, yeah. It's soothing," Tony said, giving him a 'duh' look. He focused on Steve again. "So, are you like, antisocial? That's fine, really. You'll have a whole floor to yourself, like Thor but without the roommate. Two floors, even. Whatever you want. You can sit alone all day long and watch TV or read or watch porn or torture small animals or whatever it is that you do when you're alone and when you feel you can tolerate the rest of us, boom, just creep upstairs and socialize for a minute or two and then go back into your hole. No big deal."

"I don't hate you guys," Steve insisted, feeling guilty that the others might think he didn't want to be around them. "And I don't do... _that_ stuff in my spare time. Reading, maybe."

"Then just say yes and I'll show you your room. You know what, you don't even have to say yes – I already have your hand print for the tower security system. Jarvis, give Steve pull access to one of the residential floors. There. It's yours now. Use it whenever you like. What size do you wear? Don't bother answering that, I think SHIELD has it on file. I'll get your closets stocked with spare clothes."

"Tony, I couldn't possibly," Steve began.

"Yes you could," Tony plowed on, cutting off another attempt to decline the offer. "It's already done. How could you refuse it now? You can't. Consider it a SHIELD expense, or a team perk or something you have to. What's with this guy?" he turned to the other around the table, not actually expecting an answer.

"I think it's called modesty, Tony," Natasha answered, amused. "Some of us didn't grow up as well off as you. What you're offering is kind of a huge gift. People like us, we know that nothing ever comes free – we always worry about the unspoken strings attached."

"Ah. Oh. No strings attached," Tony said. "You guys don't owe me anything. Well, actually you could make me a sandwich whenever I want one. Maybe a shoulder rub-"

"You're such a generous soul to expect nothing in return," Natasha cut in, grinning at Tony like a shark. "Speaking of generous gifts, where's mine?"

Tony rolled his eyes. "You too, Clint?"

"We'll share," Natasha smiled. "If it makes you feel any better, we'll most likely be gone on SHIELD missions most of the time."

"Actually, that makes me a sad panda," Tony pouted. "See, I want this to be the most epic slumber party ever."

"It's not a good slumber party unless you play truth or dare," Clint said. 

"What are we, five?" Natasha lifted an eyebrow at him.

"Yes!" Tony agreed with Clint's idea with enthusiasm. "Let's get drunk first, though. And whoever chooses 'truth' is a wuss."

"Uhh, let's not," Bruce objected. "Some of us can't get drunk and some of us really just _shouldn't_." He looked around the table in a you-know-who-you-are way.

"I like the idea, actually," Steve chimed in, his opinion on the matter rather unexpected. "Not truth or dare, but we should get to know each other if we're going to be teammates. Especially if we're all going to be living together."

"Is that a yes?!" Tony beamed.

"That's... a maybe," Steve said slowly, but he didn't have a poker face at all. Tony celebrated by flicking a wadded piece of napkin at Thor, but hit Loki in shoulder by mistake, who startled and reacted by trying to make himself smaller in his seat.

"Oops."

"Your aim sucks," Clint said, and tore apart his napkin and started flicking pieces at Tony. One hit the billionair directly in the ear, which resulted in a loud round of victory cawing.

Natasha felt an aneurysm coming on. "Guys, are you seriously-" Tony's return fire hit her in the chest and disappeared down her cleavage. She glared at Tony, whose survival instincts had him frozen in place, his face blank.

"The next person who throws something is getting a butter knife through their hand," Natasha stated. She barely had picked up her knife to add a threatening gesture when Clint already let another ball of paper fly, this time hitting Tony directly in the forehead. Natasha jabbed the butter knife towards Clint, a solid thunk on the table as her fist slammed against Clint's hand. When she removed her fist, the knife was stuck into the table between his fingers. She hadn't missed, however. It was just a warning, and a lucky break for Clint that she was very, very precise.

"Sorry, ma'am," Clint mumbled, biting his lip to avoid a grin spoiling his attempts at being chastened.

"We should probably have some house rules, too," Steve sighed, bending down to pick up pieces of napkin. "Like no forms of roughhousing at the table, period."

"See, this is why we need you around," Tony said, giving Steve puppy eyes. "You're so responsible. I _love_ that about you."

"Tony's not allowed to speak at the table," Natasha suggested, quirking her lips.

"Natasha isn't allowed to use knives," Clint countered, pulling the butter knife out of the poor, innocent table.

"Are we quarreling?" Thor asked, he and Loki watching the humans with mild curiosity.

"I think we're trying to sort out some house rules," Bruce said.

"Ah."

"The rules are already sorted, and there's only one rule," Tony stated.

"Keep an eye on Loki," Thor repeated dutifully.

"Ah, that one's just for you, champ. The one rule in here is that whatever Steve says, goes," Tony declared, officially giving Steve the reins.

"The rule is that Steve makes the rules?" Clint sniffed, as if offended. "I thought this was a democracy."

"It's not," Tony snipped in reply. "Steve makes the call."

"I think everyone should get a say in the rules," Steve frowned.

"I agree with Stark," Thor spoke up. "The Captain is a fair man. He would be an excellent king."

"Steve is a certified boyscout," Tony snorted.

"We'll pitch ideas to Steve, but only his word will pass a rule, or majority vote," Bruce suggested aloud. "That way no one can declare immature and biased rules."

Clint faked a cough. "Like we'd ever do that, Banner."

"All for Steve say 'Aye'," Tony blurted out.

"AYE!" everyone answered, except for Loki, who was at a loss and remained silent.

"The motion passes. Steve is now king of us," Tony stated, rubbing his ear – Thor enjoyed bellowing.

"I... okay," Steve swept a hand over his hair, a little stunned and nervous. "I promise I'll only pass rules that are fair and make sense."

"Dude, we're not worried," Clint assured him. "Your moral compass always points true North."

"I never got one of those," Tony complained, jealousy in his voice. He smirked.

Steve set his napkin over his plate, decidedly finished with his food, but he didn't move from the table at all. "I think we really ought to re-introduce ourselves," he suggested. "Get to know each other better."

"I think it's a great idea," Bruce agreed. "We could all share something about ourselves." Tony perked up with pride, wiggling in his seat. " _Not_ involving our sex lives," he added quickly, and Tony fussed.

"I'll start," Steve said. "My name is Steve Rogers, also known as Captain America. I was born and raised in Brooklyn. I served in the second world war, seventy years ago."

"He punched Hitler in the face," Tony added.

"We can read this stuff online," Clint pointed out. "No offense, Cap, it's just that you're an icon; your story is already out there. And so is Tony's, and so is Bruce's to a degree, and Natasha and I are classified. Let's be honest, this is only for Loki's benefit, maybe Thor's. We already know each other."

"Of course this is mostly for Loki's benefit," Tony agreed. "You could bring you bitchiness level down a notch, thanks. But you make a fair point, this is gonna boring for the rest of us if you don't get intimate with us, Cap. Tell us something we don't know about you."

"I... I'm not sure how much of my life is public," Steve admitted. "Kind of a side effect of being trapped in ice for 70 years. I don't even understand how to use the Internet yet, to be honest, so I couldn't even look myself up on Goggle."

"Google," Tony corrected.

"What?"

"The search engine is called Google, not Goggle, you old kook," Tony said.

"See, that doesn't make any sense to me," Steve said, breathing out a mirthless laugh. "Not a lot of things do anymore. Um. Well, I like to draw. It was the only thing I was ever good at as a kid. I suppose I'm remembered as a war hero. But I wasn't always like this. I was a scrawny kid. Seriously scrawny - I probably weighed eighty pounds soaking wet. All I wanted to do was join the war and do my part, but no recruitment center would take me. Until the super soldier serum, that is. It changed me physically to the peak of human perfection. The rest is history, I guess."

"Today we call that 'steroids'," Tony said, slapping Steve on the shoulder.

"Tony, oh my god," Natasha muttered.

Tony launched into his own introduction. "Hi, I'm Tony Stark, AKA Iron Man, AKA Sexiest Man Alive, AKA the star of your wet dreams. No need to be ashamed, and you're _welcome_. My interests include breaking the sound barrier in the Iron Man suit, which I designed myself, and annoying the hell out of my lovely assistant Ms. Pepper Potts. Actually, I love pushing anyone's buttons. I'm a button pusher. What else can I say? Aside from inventing ground-breaking technology and in general being awesome, I'd say my talent is throwing amazing parties."

Natasha snorted. "Your talent is drinking."

"Definitely drinking," Clint agreed. "Your liver is the stuff of legend."

"Yes, it is. You're welcome," Tony said. "Who's next?"

Clint begrudgingly went silent, so Natasha sighed and rolled her eyes.

"Natasha Romanoff. Codename: Black Widow. I can't tell you guys much about my past," Natasha said. "I was born in Russia and trained in espionage and what you call 'black ops' since I was a child. So I'm very, very good at what I do."

"And what do you do, Miss Romanoff?" Tony questioned, leaning in with only somewhat exaggerated interest, his chin in his hand, elbow propped on the table.

"Whatever SHIELD needs me to do," Natasha answered. "Infiltrate the enemy, gather intel, and, if necessary, kick a lot of ass."

"What do you _like_ to do?" Steve questioned. "Outside of SHIELD work."

"My hobbies?" Natasha lifted her eyebrows and let out a nervous laugh. "Uh, well, to be honest, I like to dance. I always wanted to be a ballerina." She looked at Clint and then Tony, daring them to make any smart remarks about it.

"I'm certain you're a marvelous dancer," Thor enthused. "You carry yourself with grace."

"Thank you," Natasha said, trying to feign disinterest and hoping her face wasn't turning pink.

"Who's next? Hawkface," Tony put the archer on the spot.

Clint narrowed his eyes, trying to play stubborn until Natasha, who still had her feet on his chair, kicked in him the stomach. "Oof! Pass."

"You can't pass," Natasha protested, kicking again.

"Bruce first," Clint said, stubborn again.

Natasha started to complain and get rough, but Bruce stopped her by taking up Clint's challenge.

"I'm Bruce Banner. I have my doctorate in nuclear physics. For a while I lived wherever I could be off the grid – India being the last place I was. I liked it there. I was able to help a lot of people. I've probably worked a hundred different jobs – waiter, janitor, doctor, mechanic, farm hand – whatever would make ends meet. The things I find most relaxing would be music, reading, and above all, science. Unfortunately I'm best known for being an eight-foot-tall, green rage monster." He gave a self-loathing smile.

"We love you, Brucey baby," Tony said, blowing the physicist a kiss.

Bruce just grinned and shook his head.

"Clint," Natasha kicked him again, but he had a grip on her foot this time.

"Clint Barton. Agent of SHIELD. My code name is Hawkeye. I'm an expert marksman with any projectile weapon, but my favorite weapon of choice is bow and arrow. I never miss a shot. Ever."

"Hobbies?" Natasha prompted after a second.

"I have no hobbies," Clint stated, blank-faced.

Natasha rolled her eyes. "He sings in the shower," she informed the others. Clint attempted to twist her leg, but she laughed at him, easily countering his move and pulling her feet away. "He also dances, but it's awful, I love it. He's like this," she demonstrated by wiggling and flailing her arms in the air.

"Oh my god, Natasha," Clint complained while the others laughed. Even Loki cracked a genuine smile.

"What?" she giggled and then tried to be serious again. "I love it, I really do, come on."

"Last but not least, ThO'real," Tony declare, making a grand gesture to the god of luscious blonde hair.

"I am Thor, son of Odin, God of Thunder, and Prince of Asgard," Thor declared proudly. "I am the wielder of the mighty hammer Mjolnir."

"What did you do back in Asgard?" Bruce questioned, more than interested to hear about the other world and it's culture. "What is the life of an Aesir like in general?"

Thor's brow creased in thought for a moment. "From what I understand, warriors such as yourselves are rare. In Asgard, every able-bodied man must learn to wield a sword, and many women as well. Before I was given Mjolnir, I was trained as a warrior with a sword. For recreation, my friends and I – that is, Sif and the Warriors Three – we would set out on adventure and hunting trips, seeking the largest beasts to slay and prove our worth. Ah, and we also had grand feasts with the finest ales. I don't believe Midgard brews anything to match the spirits of Asgard," he added, a bit disappointed.

"We'll have to see how you handle Everclear," Tony mused aloud.

"Did Loki go on hunting trips with you?" Bruce questioned, perplexed that Loki had not been mentioned although Thor's friends had.

"Of course. ...Alas, not very often," Thor admitted, frowning. "Hunting was not Loki's sport, nor battle." He didn't elaborate, looking at Loki apologetically instead, but Loki only studied him with almost bored curiosity.

"So what was I like?" Loki questioned, planting his elbow on the table, his head resting on his hand as he stared at Thor.

"I should not speak on your behalf," Thor mumbled, flushed.

"Well.. what am I to say?" Loki pointed out. "I do not even remember what I might be good at, if I have anything half worth mentioning at all."

"Don't say that, Loki. You are wonderful at many things," Thor said, almost gushing. 

"But not hunting," Loki deduced.

"You did not _enjoy_ hunting," Thor said.

Loki shifted in his seat, turning more fully to Thor. "So what did I enjoy? Please, tell me."

"Reading," Thor said, having to think for a moment. "And practicing your magic. You could cast the most astounding spells."

"How did I do that?" Loki questioned, curious now.

"I... I have no idea," Thor admitted. "All Aesir have some innate magic, but few have the talent for it. Your skill was always exceptional. The way you explained it to me before, you said that it could come as naturally as a thought. I could not fathom how to teach someone to think – that is something that occurs on its own or not at all."

Loki was silent, concerns stuck to the tip of his tongue.

"Let's play truth or dare now," Tony declared.

"No truth, just dare," Clint reminded him.

"I choose dare!" Tony shouted. "Hit me!"

"You guys are incorrigible," Natasha muttered, standing up and collecting her dishes.

Clint grinned. "I dare you to lick Cap's boot."

"You're supposed to dare him to do something he _wouldn't_ normally do," Natasha snorted as Steve's face turned red.

"Alright, come 'ere," Tony lurched forward, and Steve leaped out of his chair, causing it to clatter backwards onto the floor.

"We're not playing this game," Steve blurted out, trying to sound commanding. He smoothed out his shirt and hastily copied Natasha's actions in clearing the table.

Bruce, Thor, and Loki politely stood up and followed suit. Thor tried too hard, collecting more plates and glasses in his arms than he could possibly keep hold of.

"You'll break something," Loki scolded lightly, rushing to relieve Thor of some of the glasses. Thor pouted at first, having wanted to be more of a help, but then he grinned, pleased with Loki's concern. Thor turned and followed Natasha and Steve into the kitchen. Loki let out a bark of laughter when Thor almost tripped over his own feet. "Oaf," he teased.

Thor set all of his dishes down at one in a clumsy pile, and returned to the dining table where the unauthorized game of truth or dare had escalated. _"I dare you to set yourself on fire." "I dare you to shove a pineapple up your ass."_

Loki lingered in the kitchen, copying Natasha and Bruce in neatly arranging the dirtied dishes into a rack. "What is this?" he questioned, and judging by Steve's confused expression, he wasn't the only one wondering.

"It's a machine that washes the dishes for us," Bruce explained. "When we shut the door, it'll spray everything with hot water."

"What next?" Steve mumbled to himself. He stuck around long enough to watch how Bruce turned the machine on, and hear it start up, and then he and Natasha wandered back into the other half of the room.

"Do you have an idea of what kind of books you like?" Bruce asked Loki the moment they were relatively alone.

The trickster shook his head.

"I mean, mystery, action, horror, non-fiction... uh... romance?" Bruce listed off, but Loki kept shaking his head and finally shrugged his shoulders.

"I have no idea."

Bruce frowned for an instant, rubbing the back of his neck. "Well, I have some books," he offered. "But they're all scientific journals. It's kind of dry reading, so I don't know if you'd-"

"Could I?" Loki perked up with interest.

"Of course," Bruce agreed, a little surprised that Loki actually had interest in it. "I'll bring you something tomorrow."

A grin crossed Loki's face that was so genuine it was rather painful to witness. "Thank you," Loki said. "Whatever you choose will be fine."

 

x


	6. Chapter 6

Undergoing revisions as of 3/29/2015 - will return shortly.  
Sorry for the inconvenience but I want to continue this fic so first I need to edit/revise. :3


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